13

Wrote this for a writing class. The challenge was, is that it had to have exactly 500 words. Also have to use 5 words in a specific order, but it's been so long, I have forgotten them.

“It was a joke!” Timmy reassures Aldous, trying hard to keep at his pace on their way to the party.

“Yesterday, on my 13th birthday, I became a man. Men do not joke about killing children.” Aldous replies before a flash of lighting fills the sky behind them.

“Yeah, you’re a real man. Nice dress.”

“This is an Assyrian Summoner’s Robe, worn by powerful conjurers and masters of dark alchemy.” Thunder claps in the distance. “What are you suppose to be?”

“I’m a zombie pirate.” lifting his hook.

“Zombies are for twelve-year-olds. I prefer my evil to have a bit of imagination.” 

“Ooo! We should make a horror story for tonight.”

“Stories are for children. Although, since we’ll be surrounded by tweens for the rest of the evening, I suppose that wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate. The Legend of Mordecai. Spawn of Dread and Oblivion. Servant to his young Master.” Aldous moves through the darkness without losing a step.

“You’ve actually put some thought into this.”

Aldous continues, “Onto the first born on their 13th birthday, an amulet is bestowed. Amulets that hold sway over their demonic minions when sewn beneath the flesh and anointed in blood. But this does not bind them together.”

“Are you sure we should be sneaking through backyards?” Timmy’s eyes relentlessly scan the dark.

“Are you not enjoying the imagination?”

“No, it’s all right, keep going.” In a hesitant voice.

Aldous continues, “For a Master and his Minion to be bound, it must be fed 13 virginal souls and the bond will solidify. The Master will have his guardian through the trenches of hell.”

“How does he feed?” 

“With merely a glimpse into his eyes, the soul is struck with great horror it cannot escape. They’re an abyss. And once he’s drawn you, Mordecai dines on your soul using fear as his utensil. Crippling you, you cannot cry out or even moan. You can only cease to exist.” 

Timmy’s pace slows trying to fathom the Legend as the two continue through the backyards of their neighbors. From a distance, they can see and hear the festivities of Halloween. 

“Where did you learn this?” Timmy asks.

“My Father.” His reply very nonchalant.

“Your Father taught you this legend. When?” 

“Last night.” Aldous comes to a stop at the end of a tree casting a large, shadowy darkness along their route. Peeking out from this edge stands seven feet of pure hell, skin jet black and blood red. “Meet Mordecai.”

Before Timmy can cry out, the two lock eyes and the young man begins to age rapidly. His face askew with terror, and his hair turning from brown, to grey, to white. Before his fall to the ground, his body is turned to dust and a bright light engulfs the demon minion, causing his muscles to grow and spikes to protrude from his back.

“Wow, that really is how it happens.” Looking up at the towering Mordecai, “12 to go.”

Aldous and his minion proceed toward the festivities.